Page 37 of Not That Ridiculous

“You’re annoying, is what you are.” I went over to the fridge to get out the milk. I took it over to the machine, set it by the metal milk jug, and unclipped the lid of the canister where I kept any surplus coffee from my morning grind.

“If you won’t make me a bear, what am I getting?”

“Can’tmake you a bear, notwon’tmake you a bear, and what do you want?”

“What do I want?” He pulled a face like he was thinking hard. “Hmm.”

“Let me make this easy for you,” I said dryly. “I can do a leaf, a heart, or a swan.”

“Ooh.”

I tamped the espresso into the basket, clipped the portafilter into the machine, and made a shot.

“Oh my god,” Kevin said when I tossed the shot down the sink, “you didn’t give me enough time to decide!”

“What? No, that wasn’t…that wasn’t it, I’m just warming the machine up.”

“Phew. All right.”

I poured the milk into the jug and set it under the steam wand. Kevin seemed content to watch me, because every time I glanced at him, his gaze was steady. I assumed he was still mulling over his choice of art.

“Decided yet?” I asked, and put two shot glasses ready.

“I’m on the fence. I think leaves are pretty, and I do like swans, but I also really want you to give me a heart.”

“Shall I choose for you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. You’re getting a leaf. And listen. I know you saw all those amazing pictures on Instagram, so I want to set your expectations here. I haven’t been doing it all that long and I’m not artistically inclined anyway.”

“Don’t care,” he said. “You’re making it for me. That’s all I want.”

He sounded alarmingly genuine. I cleared my throat. “Can you let Phil out, please?”

Kevin went over to the back door, unlocked it, and turned the handle. He sent me a disapproving look when the door didn’t open.

“Yeah,” I said. “That one sticks, too. It’s not nearly as bad, though. Leave it ajar for him to come back in when he’s done, would you?”

He flexed his arm and popped it open. Phil rushed out.

Kevin came over to stand beside me as I made his stupid latte.

Although he didn’t crowd me, I was hyperaware of him. Every single cell in my body was attuned to him, vibrating in his direction.

“How’d you get into this fancy latte art anyway?” Kevin asked. “And how come you don’t you do it at the shop?”

I concentrated on pouring the espresso into the white china cup I’d pre-warmed. “I don’t offer it at the shop because it’s all I can do to keep up with the more basic orders. Besides, I’m a simple, straightforward man, and that’s how I like to keep my business.”

Kevin snorted beside me.

I glanced up at him as I tucked the milk jug under the wand, then held up a finger and blasted it.

Kevin waited patiently, then said, “I’ma simple, straightforward man, Charlie. You? Nope.”

Well if you used Kevin as the yardstick, then no. I tapped the milk jug lightly on the counter to get rid of any big bubbles. But Kevin was an outlier.

“Hush now,” I said. “Artiste at work.”

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